


there's gonna be some changes in the way this story goes

by janie_tangerine



Category: Bastille Day (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Crack Treated Seriously, Fairy Tale Parody, I Blame Tumblr, Love at First Sight, M/M, Male Cinderella, Revisionist Fairy Tale, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: “I - uh. My father. He married - Countess Mason.”“Oh, her. Your father must have had terrible taste, lad.”“Well, why do you think I was planning to run away from home and I figured that if I came here I’d find enough stuff to steal and sell so I could get to the damned city?”“Couldn’t you have stolen from anyone else?”Or: in which Michael just wanted to steal a few jewels from the royal palace so he could run and start a new life. He hadn't counted running into the guard captain, except that maybe it's not such a bad thing.





	there's gonna be some changes in the way this story goes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [j_gabrielle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/gifts).



> Sooo, in the list of 'Bastille Day prompts I should have reposted a long time ago from tumblr', this one asked for: _can we have a villians!AU? Where they're both the baddies who decide to be baddies together for a common cause, but then realised they like being baddies together over being baddies apart. Cue ultimate villian wedding. Or another Cinderella AU ala what you did for Throbb? :)_
> 
> ... I merged the two things. Have the pseudo-villains au which is ALSO a Cinderella parody. I DON'T EVEN KNOW. The title is from a Garth Brooks song whose lyrics are basically CINDERELLA ON CRACK and these idiots don't belong to me and yeah, I DON'T EVEN KNOW GUYS. *saunters back downwards*

Thing is: Michael  _hasn’t_  come to the damned ball to meet any fucking princess.

Rewind: Michael hasn’t  _sneaked_  into the royal palace using some of his father’s old but serviceable clothes and hitchhiking, knowing that his stepmother wouldn’t appreciate, in order to  _come back home_.

Never mind that he doesn’t care for princesses - his step-brothers can have both, he never found girls attractive in the first place anyway. He’s come here for two reasons: because his stepmother thought he  _had no business being between civilized people_ , and because he figured that stealing some good silverware from the castle couldn’t be too complicated, and if he sells it he can leave this godforsaken village and move to a damned  _city_  and have a life.

Sometimes he thinks that if he needed one extra reason to  _detest_  his father, was that before dying he had to get married  _again_  and saddle him with a stepmother who hates him and has made his life a living hell. There’s a  _reason_  why he steals things when he’s out, or a reason why he started, and if she never gave him enough money to buy food for  _four_  people but only for three -

Anyway. He sadly hadn’t taken into account that some people would  _want_  to dance with him, and so now he’s lost three hours and midnight is about to arrive and he still hasn’t managed to grab anything bar some jewelry from some of the ladies, but nowhere near enough to get away and live comfortably for a bit. He manages to sneak out of the room, finding a less crowded corridor. Good. He casts a look around and grabs a bracelet here and there from noblewomen (he’s not gonna steal from servants, he has a limit) until he finds the stairs.

He goes up.

It doesn’t take loo long to find a room which isn’t locked and it’s not definitely servants’ quarters. It’s not grand enough to be a princess’s, but it’s grand enough to be some dame’s, which is good enough for him - he opens a few drawers quickly and starts grabbing necklaces and bracelets and earrings, stuffing them into the small bag he had brought. Good. It’s enough, he decides, and closes the drawer in order to leave -

“Stop right there.”

 _Damn it_. He dares turning his head and -

Shit. He’s face to face with one of the guards from downstairs. From the uniform, it looks like the captain. Who has a gun pointed at him. And  _too bad_ , because when Michael took notice of him before - in order to avoid him at all costs, of course - he had thought,  _pity because I would have danced with that guy, if I had to dance with someone_.

Listen, the man’s  _hot_  - tall, taller than Michael indeed, gorgeous dark skin, warm brown eyes,  _quite_  some muscle on him, never mind that the uniform certainly looks amazing on him. Honest,  _totally_  Michael’s type on any other day.

On any other day.

“I guess,” he says, “that if I tell you that I’d be more than amenable to share the money I get from selling this too you, you wouldn’t let me go?”

“Now that’s a  _lot_  to presume.”

“Never mind. I figured it was a lost cause. Well, I tried.”

“You  _tried_?”

Michael says nothing, and a moment later the guy’s up in his space.

“Explain  _that_.”

Given that Michael has a gun pointed to his neck, maybe he should answer. He swallows down, and then -

“I - I wanted to sell them so I can run away. I've got a contact in the city.”

“ _Run away_.”

“I - uh. My father. He married - Countess Mason.”

“Oh,  _her_. Your father must have had terrible taste, lad.”

“ _Well_ , why do you think I was planning to run away from home and I figured that if I came here I’d find enough stuff to steal and sell so I could get to the damned city?”

“Couldn’t you have stolen from  _anyone else_?”

“I figured, there’d be so much in here, no one would’ve noticed. ‘Sides, she told me I was not to come. Because -  _I’m not civilized_ , according to her.”

“You seem plenty civilized to me.”

“I usually sleep in the kitchen near the fireplace and I’ve got ash everyfuckingwhere under this clothes, according to  _her_  it doesn’t make me such.”

“Hm. Show me.”

“What?”

“You  _know_  what.”

Michael sighs and hands over the bag. The captain takes a good look at it, weighing it in his hand. He whistles. “That’s a  _lot_  and no one’s noticed yet.”

“Well, I’m good,” Michael shrugs, figuring that at this point he might as well brag.

“How did you learn?”

 _Why_ hasn’t the guy arrested him yet? Michael shrugs again. “My step-mother always sent me to buy food for three. As in,  _them_. If I didn’t want to get by with their leftovers, it was either that or nothing.”

The guy stares at him for a long, long moment.

“What if I accept your offer?”

For a moment, Michael thinks he heard wrong.

“ _What_?”

The man shrugs. “This job sucks. You’re good at it? Doesn’t matter. Everything vaguely upsetting for the two precious princesses is  _my_  fault, of course, according to their parents who spoil them to death. They’re insufferable.  _Nobles_  are insufferable. I was in the army before and they treat me and the others who also were like… commodities. Honestly? Fuck ‘em, I’m done. I was thinking of resigning when they found husbands, but all things considered, if you’re  _really_  offering me half of that money to not turn you in, fine. But I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t take more than your share.”

 _What_? Michael looks at the man in the eyes, and -

“Shit. You aren’t kidding, are you?”

“Do I  _look_  to you like I’m kidding or like I  _ever_  do that, Mr. Mason?”

Michael figures that it’s time for the last test. If it goes the way it hopes and this is not a trap or anything -

“You don’t. But my friends and  _or_  accomplices, usually call me Michael.”

He holds a hand out.

A moment later, the bag is in it again. “Fine,  _Michael_. Only my mother used my real name, so Briar will have to do.”

Why, then. He smiles.

“Fine,  _Briar_. Shall we? The window’s not so high and my contact's place is open all night.”

“Lead the way. If you do anything suspicious, you’re done.”

“Don’t you worry,” Michael replies, sporting his most charming smile that he know of. “ _Done_  isn’t what I’d like to be with you,  _captain_.”

As the clock strikes midnight once, twice, thrice, Michael can see Briar’s mouth curling into a wide,  _scary_  grin. “So that’s how it is? Because I wouldn’t like that either.”

Michael is starting to think that going to this ball might be the best idea he’s ever had in his life.

 

End.


End file.
